Cursed Love (Broderick Coven Book 1)

by AJ Renee

  “What are you? My keeper? I was watching the game—in peace—at the bar.” Greg knelt at the side of their bed and looked underneath. If anyone hid under there, they would have to be the size of a child, if that. “What were you doing? Letting Dan touch what’s mine?”

  Brandy’s vision blurred with anger. She couldn’t remember a time where she was this upset or angry, not even in the seventh grade when the mean girls had dubbed her Bloody Brandy. It went on for a week after her first accident during her period, until her brothers had taught them a lesson. The tingling in her fingers hummed as an eerie warmth filled her body.

  “For the record, Gregory,” she said in a calm voice she didn’t recognize. “I was with my family celebrating my birthday.”

  The bedroom light flickered, and he swallowed thickly. “Baby, I’m—”

  She was done with his apologies. “No. It’s my turn to talk. You come in here, drunk, and accuse me of stepping out on you? You forgot my birthday! I can smell a woman’s perfume mixed in with that booze on your breath.”

  The more she said, the stronger the anger pulsed in her body. Brandy was done. She was over defending this poor excuse of a man to her family. They were right. She did deserve better.

  Greg’s eyes widened to saucers, and movement caught her eyes. Brandy did a double take when she spotted her lamp hovering in midair. Looking around, she found random objects orbiting the room.

  Shock replaced the anger Greg’s words had brought to life only seconds before, and each item bounced once before dropping to the ground. Her lamp landed on a pillow with a thud as the sound of glass shattering echoed throughout the room. Neither of them spoke as they stared with slack jaws.

  Brandy tried understanding what happened but couldn’t. One minute she was reaming him out, and the next her room had a reduced gravitational pull. She caught Greg’s eyes and found them filled with fear as he stumbled back.

  “What are you?” he asked.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You made things… made them…” He took another step back and bumped into the wall.

  “I didn’t do anything!” she yelled, except she didn’t know if it was a lie or not. Brandy curled her fingers to stop herself from scratching her now-itchy palms. The tingling sensation from before spread up her arms to her neck. She was pretty sure she was losing her mind.

  “I’m out of here. Please don’t hurt me. You can keep everything,” he rambled as he slithered against the wall toward the door. When he was three feet away from the exit, she watched him run away like she was about to attack.

  When the door slammed shut behind Greg, Brandy was overwhelmed with a mix of relief and fear. It seemed they were done. She was surprisingly okay with that fact. Looking around the room, she checked to see if anything else had moved on its own.

  She tried to make sense of what had just transpired in her room. She’d been livid, before some of her things were doing circles around them—not to mention the notebook he claimed she'd thrown at him, which she hadn’t, or the pillow that had smothered him all on its own.

  Brandy carefully walked across the room and sat on the edge of her bed. There was glass, ceramic, and shards of a lightbulb splattered across her rug. She slid her fingers into her hair and cradled her head.

  “There has to be a rational explanation for what just happened,” she whispered. There was no way she could have done any of that… could she?

  ***

  Things were getting weird.

  It’d been a few days since the blowout with Greg, and true to his word, he hadn’t returned. While the things in her apartment had stayed in their place, at work, things hadn’t. She also sensed eyes on her at all times as she moved about in the city.

  Brandy was on a whole new level of spooked. She seriously considered taking a martial arts class. At the moment, she had no self-defense experience, and she wanted to know something other than the skill of flight.

  “What’s your name?” she asked the perky blonde who’d clearly had enough caffeine for the day.

  “Candy.”

  Brandy stopped short and stared at the cup she held. Forcing her hand to move, she wrote down the name and handed it to the barista. “It’ll be out shortly.”

  The door opened for the umpteenth time that morning, but a prickle of unease had her looking up to see who the newcomer was. The man wore a great-looking gray suit, and his dark hair was slicked back. Most of the women in the café stopped and checked out the handsome man. Brandy, on the other hand, breathed deeply at the power radiating off him.

  He was dangerous.

  She didn’t know how she knew, but her mind screamed for her to be careful and to get the hell out of there. Too bad the line was nearly to the door and her employees were already busting their asses to get through the long list of orders. She needed to help them through the rush.

  As Brandy took orders, she kept tabs on the man. She also noticed a few people in the café she hadn’t paid attention to before. Their reactions to the man were… different.

  She became more nervous and agitated the longer he was in the café. The tingling in her hands, which had been at a dull hum, was back with full force. Between orders, she ran her hands down her apron, hoping to rub the feeling away.

  She was ready to serve him and get him out of there. His gaze was trained on her all the while, and she couldn’t take much more. When he was two customers away, the pen between her and the register rattled against the counter. Covering it with a hand, she hoped no one had noticed it move. With a quick glance around, she found a strange expression on the well-dressed man’s face.

  Glancing to the side, she snuck a quick peek at her workers. They were bustling around in a flurry of activity. She wrapped her fist around the pen and mentally hurried the customer between her and the man to make up his mind.

  She hated it when customers reached the counter without a clue, even though they’d been in line for ten minutes already. Finally, the man made his choice, so she wrote down his name and handed over the cup.

  The dark stranger stepped forward, only the countertop separating them. Brandy was pretty sure if anyone touched her skin, they’d find it on fire and suffer some form of shock.

  “How can I help you?” she forced out, hoping she sounded calm—the opposite of how he made her feel.

  He only stared back. His dark eyes, like pits to nowhere, were unblinking.

  Brandy pushed back her shoulders and tipped her chin up defiantly. This stranger had her internal alarms blaring at maximum, and there was no way she could let him see it. She grew up with six older brothers, and they had pushed her around plenty.

  “Sir?” she asked, becoming annoyed as the seconds ticked by.

  His eyes flicked between her name plate and her eyes. “An espresso.”

  Her fingers went on autopilot at the register. “Would you like any—”

  “I said an espresso.”

  The noise around them lowered as curious onlookers watched the exchange.

  She raised her head and studied his hard jaw and pitch-black eyes. “Name?” she asked as anger began to bubble up. This man was a grade-A asshole. She knew deep in her heart he was someone to be worried about, but she couldn’t show him that.

  The man dropped a five-dollar bill on the counter and walked away from her. Her hand itched to give him an appropriate name, but she stopped at “gray suit.”

  “What a dick,” the next customer told her, and Brandy forced a polite smile in return of their accurate assessment.

  Working in customer service meant she bit her tongue quite a bit. As the manager, she had to lead by example. Moments like these sucked monkey balls for Brandy. She wished she could slap the man upside the head for his bad manners.

  After greeting the next guest, Brandy heard a commotion and excused herself. The man in the suit ran his hand along his hair, pushing the strands back in place in agitation.

  “Are you okay?” Erika, one of her baristas,
asked him.

  “I’m fine,” he snapped, his upper lip curling in a sneer as he stared at Brandy. His cold glare glowed briefly, and she looked around them. No one else seemed affected by whatever glow she thought she saw.

  Erika handed him his cup with a quick reminder that it was hot and moved on to the next order. Mr. Suit removed the lid, and steam billowed from the black espresso before he brought it to his lips. In one swift move, he poured the entire drink down his throat. Brandy watched with a mix of horror and surprise as he finished. He sneered at her before walking out of the shop, leaving his trash on the counter.

  “That was weird,” one of her workers whispered to another. “I wonder who threw the newspaper at him.”

  “How did he drink that?”

  “That was like one hundred and fifty degrees!”

  Her employees whispered the same things she wondered. “Erika?”

  “Yeah, boss?”

  “What about a newspaper?” she asked and smiled at the customer waiting for her.

  Erika turned her back to the machines. “I swear a newspaper flew from the stand over there and hit him in the head. I’ve never seen anything like it. Do we have a ghost in here or something?”

  “Ghost?” she asked, noting no one else had tuned into their curious exchange.

  “You can’t tell me you haven’t noticed all the weird things happening lately. Machines turning on by themselves… jugs, pens, cups… all of them have been moving by themselves. It’s getting pretty creepy,” Erika whispered.

  Brandy had noticed the same things and saw how scared Erika really was. She nodded and squeezed Erika’s shoulder. “Yeah… it is,” she said, unable to tell the girl more. The last thing she needed was to have anyone quit, so she gave her a reassuring smile and returned to the register.

  The humming around her body lessened with the man’s departure, but she still didn’t feel normal. Then again, she hadn’t felt like her usual self since her birthday.

  Chapter 3

  The toilet seat, schedule, a chair, a cup, and some change were a few things that moved for no rhyme or reason. It seemed it was happening more often with each passing day. Mr. Suit had not returned, but a woman who was immaculately dressed had.

  Brandy reacted similarly to the woman as she had the man. They were both cold and scary as hell. Intimidation rolled off them like a red carpet at an awards ceremony.

  Individuals like these were the worst people on the planet. They thought their shit didn’t stink. Metal rods were implanted firmly up their asses as they sneered at the rest of society. So, when this latest fine example of humanity had entered the café, Brandy was able to pull up her invisible suit of armor to handle it. Sure, her body had lost its mind. Her internal alarm warned her of the danger, but she refused to let the plastic Barbie doll know she was affecting Brandy.

  Like the man, this woman also ordered an espresso, said few words, and drank the scalding liquid with no problem. What she didn’t do was leave a mess or throw down money to avoid the risk of touching Brandy.

  However, two separate bags of coffee had flown off the shelves. One fell on the floor behind a customer, and the other traveled about four feet before one of the baristas caught it.

  Outwardly, Brandy had put on a façade of concern and chalked it up to whatever excuse would roll off her tongue. Inwardly, she was freaking out.

  The moving objects were everywhere. Each day, it happened more often. She noticed they seemed to move when she was afraid or angry. She wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but Brandy was pretty sure she was at the root of it all. She didn’t know how or why and couldn’t prove it either. She had no control over any of it. If she told anyone, they would have her locked up faster than you could say powers.

  As the last one to leave, Brandy shut off the lights and locked the door. The streetlights illuminated her path and a breeze caressed her clammy skin. Walking home the short distance provided her the ability to unwind. Although, if the strange happenings continued she’d have to consider using her car. Brandy pulled out her phone as she walked down the sidewalk in the direction of her apartment. She swiped through her recent contact and found Andrea. Her finger hovered over the number as she debated making the call.

  Andrea was her best friend, and setting aside the fact she was married to James, Brandy’s brother, Brandy told her everything—except this one thing. She needed someone to talk to. Someone who could tell her she hadn’t lost her mind. Someone who would give her a large dose of chocolate before checking her into a mental facility.

  Her body tingled, and after a few more steps, an invisible energy crawled over her skin. Brandy dropped the mental debate and looked around. She didn’t see anyone, but once again, the eerie feeling that she wasn’t alone was there.

  She slipped her hand into her purse and picked up the pace. Her heart pounded against her sternum, and fear crawled up her throat with the need to call for help. The problem was she didn’t know who to call or, worse, what the problem was. She could imagine the call now…

  “9-1-1, what is your emergency?”

  “I’m being followed!”

  “Can you describe the person following you?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Well, I don’t see them. I feel them following me.”

  “Please tell me your cross streets so I know where to send the ambulance that will transport you to the loony bin.”

  Brandy shook her head free of the thoughts and reminded herself to pay attention. At the thought, a breeze lifted her hair off her neck, and chills ran down her spine. She stopped and spun on her heels, ready to strike whatever creep was there, but she only found air.

  Her gaze shifted, and she noticed the tree across the street and how very still it was. Not one bird, squirrel, cricket… Nothing at all could be heard in the night. It scared her even more. Brandy’s eyes darted around but found no one. Instead of running like she’d planned, she stepped back and bounced off something hard.

  She fell to the ground and looked up into glowing eyes. Her heart skipped a beat as she gasped at the sight. She snapped out of it quickly and crawled backward, trying to distance herself from Mr. Suit.

  He didn’t follow her. Standing still, he watched her with his strange eyes and tilted his head side to side. The way he observed her only freaked her out even more. He moved like a predator ready to play with his dinner.

  “S-sorry, I didn’t see you there,” she murmured and scrambled to her feet. This man was on something, and she didn’t want anything to do with it.

  Brandy walked backward as she got her bearings. She placed more space between the doped-up man and herself. When he didn’t follow her, she decided to take a different route home and ran.

  She pumped her arms and legs, trying to put as much distance as she possibly could between her and the man. After a couple of minutes of sprinting down the empty streets, Brandy looked over her shoulder and slowed to a brisk walk after finding herself alone.

  “There’s a logical explanation for all of this.” She panted, reaching new levels of crazy as she spoke to herself. “It’s dark, and my eyes are playing tricks on me.”

  Reaching the end of the block, she slowed and peeked around the corner. Brandy looked back and verified no one was following her. With both directions clear, she turned and found herself bouncing off something hard once again.

  This time, she was able to steady herself and not crumble to the ground. Confused as to what she walked into, she righted herself and realized she was facing Mr. Suit yet again.

  “What in the hell?” she murmured. She did not know how this man had appeared out of thin air.

  He sneered in response, and Brandy did the only think she could think of. She ran again.

  She didn’t make it far, as his deep chuckle followed her. Her head whipped back, and tears stung at the force with which her long ponytail was yanked. He released her hair, and she fell hard onto her knees, her hands slapping the ground be
fore she looked up.

  “Tsk tsk, hag,” the man said and cracked his neck.

  His voice was deeper than she remembered, and if she wasn’t sure about the glowing eyes before, she was now. Unlike their pitch black from the café, they were a strange amber color, at times red tinged. In the darkness, she could swear his face rippled as it changed shape.

  Brandy’s brain couldn’t comprehend what was going on. She crawled backward, one arm and then one leg, her purse dragging along. Looking behind him, she wished someone would come along so she could get help, but no one was around.

  “I’ll give you whatever money I have. Take it!” She tossed her purse in his direction. If he was on a high from some new synthetic drug, he could have what little cash she had and leave her alone.

  He laughed, and his rotten teeth appeared. “Stupid hag, I don’t want your money.”

  Brandy came off the ground, feeling a crazy sensation of hovering midair, before her back slammed against a building. Her mind reeled because the man had not laid a hand on her. She had been thrown by some unseen force. The pulse in her neck hammered away as adrenaline filled her body and thick fear paralyzed her. She must to be dreaming, because no man or woman could pin another against a wall without putting a finger on them.

  This man was not human.

  She shoved the possibility aside as fast as it entered her mind. He stepped closer, and unlike before, she noticed the smell of putrid skin. The light from the street illuminated his face, and Brandy screamed. From deep inside, she belted out, praying someone nearby would hear her.

  Gone was the handsome face from the café, and in its place, was a creature unlike any horror film she’d seen. Two small horns stuck out from his head with no hair in sight. The raw flesh that took place of his skin moved in waves. When a face formed on his shoulder, she was done.

  Brandy shut her eyes tightly, no longer able to face this new reality. Her skin pulsed to an uncomfortable beat. As his smell became stronger, she knew he was stepping closer to her. She needed to get off the wall, but she didn’t know how. Nothing held her up, except maybe the creature.